Tied Like Two in Tethers
by Melancholy Soundtrack
Summary: Their relationship has never been easy, but then again, if it had been, it would not have been worth it. Katara and Zuko found that what is learned from the struggle is what is most important. Independent stories based on the seven virtues.
1. Patience

**This is going to be a seven chapter story focusing on the theme of the seven heavenly virtues. I'm pretty excited about this! Hope you enjoy! **

"Patience"

The morning sun peeked his face over the jagged mountains in the distance, his beautiful, golden arms extending, stretching out of his quiet night's slumber, those fingers of his unfurling, touching the sky gently and painting a beautiful mosaic for the mortals of this world. His impatience to wake the world below, to fill the bowl of barren landscape beneath him, was apparent as he peered into the windows of the sleeping humans. His rays touched their closed eyelids and pulled them from their dreams of wealth and power- selfish dreams for the most part.

The exiled Fire Nation prince, however, was not roused from his nightmarish dreams by the lure of the sun above. He had been up for hours, staring above him, counting the stars, going over the numerous disappointments that had been a direct, and indirect, result of him. These mistakes plagued him daily, at any and every hour of the day. Especially now, surrounded by these people who had accepted him into their group- except he was not truly a part of their group. There was a blatant figurative line that divided him from the rest of the group.

He could tell that Aang, the Avatar, was attempting to remove that divide, albeit he was not very successful. Sokka accepted but was not about to get on friendly terms with Zuko. Toph didn't seem to have a certain opinion on the matter, but she was wary- probably still pissed about the Fire Nation royal burning her feet. But they were nothing compared to the wrath of the water-bending girl- Katara.

She hated him. Actually hate was too nice of a word. She loathed him. Abhorred. Detested. Despised. Choose any of the words above to describe her feelings for him.

He couldn't blame her. She had every right to hate him- he had almost destroyed her, the Avatar, any chance for a new world to rise from the ashes of Ozai's reign once the group destroyed the ruler.

Yet although he understood her anger, her hatred of him, he still longed to mend the broken, dilapidated bridge that had been built between them beneath Ba Sing Se. Of course the chance to fix a bridge that was constructed of toothpicks and glue was close to nonexistent. They hadn't even built a firm foundation of trust, of _anything_, and he had thrown all this fury, everything he had in him, at it- he had destroyed possibly any chance to be close to her.

And the funny thing was, he _yearned _to be close to her. He wanted her to confide her most intimate secrets in him, he wanted to understand her. He wanted to be the person she trusted most.

It was almost laughable.

Zuko turned to look towards the abandoned, decrepit building that had been serving as the Gaang's home the past few months. The others were beginning to rise from their sleep to begin the day's chores- to practice, to spar, to plan how to not die.

Zuko rose from his sleeping mat on the grass- he didn't feel like sleeping in the temple last night- and headed off towards the woods. He ventured far into the belly of the woods- not a particular destination in mind- he just wanted to think, to escape the prying eyes that were sure to find him. To escape a certain pair of cerulean eyes filled to capacity with accusation and a blaze of hatred that burned brighter than he would expect in something that was so blue, so pure. With a jolt he realized that _he _had caused that- that pure beauty to have been extinguished- to be replaced with a red- hot fire that set fire to that innocence like fire to a piece of parchment.

Zuko pushed through the branches, ignoring some of them as they nipped him with their fingers, trying to stop him, trying to make him stop running away from his mistake. He _always _ran. He never tried to face the mistakes he made- he never tried to mend them, to admit fault.

To be honest, he knew he was wrong- but his damn pride didn't want him to surrender. That and he was also scared out of his mind. He was scared to admit his wrongdoing to her- it was a sign of weakness, a sign of vulnerability. Zuko didn't like being vulnerable- it wasn't a trait he had ever admired.

The exiled prince spotted a patch of grass beneath a rather shady tree and lowered himself to the ground, the thick trunk supporting his back. He watched the leaves of the tree, a blend of yellow and green making up their body, blow lazily in the wind. With a sigh, Zuko rested the back of his head on the dried bark, hearing it crackle.

He knew what a mistake he made when he pushed her away, threw her kindness back at her. He didn't think he would ever forget that look of betrayal that blazed from her eyes as she protectively fought back for Aang's sake. At the time, it had amused him- her anger, the palpable hurt that glinted in her eyes. But that amusement was simply a feeble mask overlaying what was to come within a few days, once he had time to think through his actions. He realized that his sister was a sadistic liar, his father a lying bastard who had never had any intentions to give him his approval, his pride. He realized that he had fallen into Hell along with them. He realized he hadn't just slipped unintentionally into that pit of fire- he had _put _himself there. And he betrayed the _one _person that could have, _would _have, rescued him.

With his head and heart harboring this much anger, this much frustration, the fact that he lashed out, his fire- bending temper overtaking him, wasn't surprising. He growled, and allowed the internal barrier he had fabricated to mask his anger, his shame, to be burned into oblivion. He snarled, throwing whips of fire from his hands into other trees- burning them to the ground. He charred the ground with black patches, the living things around him dying within seconds. Isn't that what he was? A monster that killed anything beautiful with the flick of his wrist and the boiling vat of rage that festered in his chest.

He yelled obscenities, cursed Agni, and shot tendrils of fire this way and that- releasing the emotions he had kept secret for so, so long. He tried to play the part of the perfect fire- bending teacher for the avatar, he tried to be aloof, tried not give them a reason to hate him- and this all required patience and silence. Zuko pound his bare fists into the thicker trees, making imprints of his hands, and smearing scarlet onto their bodies. Angry tears fell down his cheeks as he thought about how perfectly he had screwed up, how he had pushed those who could have truly helped him away for a false sense of love.

"You really shouldn't fire- bend so close to this many trees you know," said a condescending voice from behind him.

Zuko turned his face to find the subject of his thoughts standing with her hands crossed over her chest, looking at him from beneath her loose hair. Her eyes were guarded, her mouth pursed in a tight line that was clearly untrusting. She wasn't screaming though- which he took as a good sign.

He fully turned around, panting, and quickly wiped his face of the salty streams that fell across his cheeks. He looked at her, and she stared back. They didn't speak for a long time, each surveying one another.

"Nobody knew where you were. We assumed you had escaped back to your perfect little palace," she mocked.

Zuko didn't feel fury from the words she had clearly strung together in a sentence meant to elicit anger from him- he felt shame because he knew she still believed him to go back to that house of horror. She still believed him a traitor who was simply here to destroy any chance of a new world. She couldn't have been more wrong though.

Zuko gently shook his head. "Nope. Just needed to be alone for a little while."

Katara didn't move or speak or do anything for that matter for many seconds. She simply looked at him with those piercing eyes of hers, probing him, trying to find a fault in his answer, trying to find a hole in his mask of indifference that was once again plastered perfectly to his face- a stony expression of coldness. She didn't seem to find anything.

She nodded stiffly, and began to turn around to walk back to camp, when Zuko opened his mouth, surprising even him.

"I'm sorry." He said simply. Those two words weren't enough to express his guilt over their situation, weren't even close to what he owed her.

She turned around slowly, crossed her arms again, and pursed her lips once more, narrowing her eyes. "You're sorry?" She laughed coldly. "Well I guess I forgive you then Zuko! Let's be the best of friends! Let's go back to the South Pole and go penguin sledding together!" By the end of her tirade, she was screeching with mockery.

Zuko didn't yell, didn't allow his anger to get the better of him- he knew he deserved this, deserved much worse actually- but he still felt his temper flare up from her biting words. He clenched his fists.

"I really am sorry. Ba Sing Se was one of the biggest mistakes I've ever made and I've made plenty of mistakes. I know you have every right not to forgive me, to even believe me, but I just wanted to get the words out."

Her mouth opened to fire back a retort but it closed just as quickly. She angrily looked away. "I thought I could trust you. I _wanted _to trust you more than you understand. And I hate you for what you did."

Zuko nodded, biting the inside of his cheek until he tasted blood. It tasted bitter. Figures.

"I understand that." He told her, and he did.

She laughed bitterly. "That's just it Zuko. You _don't _understand." Tears were swimming in her eyes. He was so astounded by this that he was at a loss for words.

She quickly recovered from her moment of weakness, wiping the unshed tears away, replacing the cold wall that seemed to forever separate them from each other. "You will _never _understand." She whispered, and began to walk away again.

Zuko was fast, and he caught her wrist in his large palm. She recoiled from his touch, eyes blazing with shock and fury. "Then _make _me understand Katara!"

There was no longer several feet of distance between them- it was a mere six inches. Katara looked up into his golden eyes, seeing something she had never seen within the normally stoic and guarded molten orbs- pain, guilt, self- loathing. She was scared of that.

She tried to move away, but he caught bother her wrists, and pulled her back. She struggled feebly in his arms, but eventually ceased and carefully looked back into his eyes. "Make me understand." He repeated in a whisper, a strained whisper that was infused with so much pain that is shocked her.

Katara didn't speak for a long time- she watched him. She noticed how tall he was, standing several inches above her to the point where she needed to look up to see him. She noticed his hair, shaggy and dirty from traveling, and how ebony it was- and even though dirt covered it, it still had a luster about it, something that made it shine in the sun.

His face. Katara had always thought him handsome- verging on absolutely gorgeous. Despite his scar, he was breathtaking, and the fact that she thought these things angered her. She hated herself for feeling these things about him. She hated herself for feeling mostly angry about his betrayal simply to _her _under Ba Sing Se. In all honestly, Aang had little to do with why she was so hurt because of Zuko's actions. A blossom of hope had sprouted in her heart at his words in those catacombs, and then minutes later that blossom was ravaged before it even had a chance to bloom. It took her weeks to realize that the inextinguishable hurt and pain she had felt from his actions was directly related to what she had wanted from him.

She _liked_ him- for lack of a better word. This realization had dawned on her one day while she was gathering firewood for the group. It hit her in the gut, knocked the wind out of her, and caused her to fall to her knees from the force of that comprehension. She laughed hysterically until the tears came. She wondered if she had always been such a masochist.

Katara was brought back to the present, and opened her mouth, hoping her voice didn't shake. "Why Zuko?" she croaked. "Why?"

He flinched, and looked away. His voice was just as strained as hers had been. "I thought that I would finally get the family that I had never had. But then I decided I didn't want to join them in Hell." He looked back at her, after he took a breath. His eyes spoke volumes- she knew he was telling the truth. "If I could take it back- I would without looking back." His voice was strong, without a tremor- he meant it.

"But you can't," She said flatly. "You can't erase what happened that day."

He nodded, "I know. But I can try to fix it. Katara, I know you aren't going to forgive me easily. You shouldn't. I want to prove to you that I'm not going anywhere. I'm here for Aang, for the entire group. I am going to prove myself to you. I swear to Agni."

The funny thing is, she knew he would. A ghost of a smile made its way to her face. "I'll be counting on that."

That night, the group sat around the fire telling jokes and eating dinner. Zuko sat off to the side, watching, as he normally did. Something was different about tonight though. It was freer; it was less strangled and smothered with false pretensions of happiness.

Tonight, the entire group was content.

The exiled prince glanced towards the water- bender, his eyes slightly shaded by his hair, but she eventually felt the weight of his gaze and looked back. She offered him a slight smile, and although her eyes were still guarded, Zuko felt a flutter in his chest. He realized he was getting a second chance, and Agni be damned if he was going to screw this one up as well.


	2. Temperance

****** Hey guys! Okay so I am going to apologize initially for the beginning of this. Frankly, I thought it was choppy and just not very good. I felt that by the middle of it though, the story started flowing a little bit better. Maybe that is just me though. **

**This story centers around Zuko and Ozai, not so much Zuko and Katara, because it is about Zuko's ability to control his anger and express mercy which is what the virtue temperance teaches. This strained relationship between father and son would obviously prove to be a struggle that Zutara would have to overcome. Sorry for any mistakes also! I only read this through once looking for mistakes so I probably made plenty. Anyway, hope ya enjoy! **

* * *

><p>"Temperance"<p>

The Fire Lord's back was rigid, his bones locked and anxious, so unlike his usual bending stance. Zuko, more than most people, understood the importance of a ready bending stance, the heavy significance of fluid limbs; the threat of attack was always looming in the back of his mind, despite the fact that the war had ended over a year ago. What could he say? Old habits die hard.

Today, however, his mind was otherwise distracted by other matters, matters that he considered more vital than the correct bending stance. His mind was filled to capacity with what today entailed for him, a day that he had been dreading for months. The day he was to speak with the previous Fire Lord, Ozai. His father-the man who had spent the better part of Zuko's life berating him, and emotionally and physically marring him; the thought of seeing the result of the harsh living conditions of the Boiling Rock branded into his father's body, and etched into the facets of his eyes, his soul suffering what his body could not, gave Zuko slight elation. The life Zuko lived under the iron fist of Ozai was pure hell, and, in his opinion, Ozai deserved whatever he was getting in prison.

A feather-light touch on the back of his hand caused Zuko's thoughts to disperse, and he glanced towards his right, to the beautiful woman who stood next to him. Her hair was loose around her face, and cascaded to just above her hips- she usually pinned it back, in traditional Water Tribe fashion, but today she decided to let it free.

She smiled slightly, reassuringly, at him, though he noted that the action did not quite reach her eyes. She was just as nervous as he was about the impending visit. However, albeit she was not aware, Zuko had no intensions of allowing her _anywhere_ near his pathetic excuse for a father. He intended to have his mass of guards hold her back while he spoke with Ozai, and although Zuko knew she would protest, it was just in her nature, he felt that it was the right thing to do.

He took her hand in his, smoothing his thumb, calloused from years of rigorous training, over the soft, dark skin of her own hand. With a small flick of the wrist, he turned the water-bender's hand over, palm facing up. His fingers, usually rough, traced the lines in her palm with a gentle motion as her eyes leveled on him, her breathing suddenly becoming irregular in the sight of him, the man she loved more with each passing day. Quickly, Zuko deposited a light kiss on her palm, everything she needed to know said in the silence. His eyes met hers when he glanced up from her palm, finding that she was utterly focused on him, her bottom lip caged between her teeth. "I love you," she whispered.

"I love you, too," his voice was steady, which surprised him due to the state of the rest of his body, but he meant those words. Actually, those words weren't enough to describe to her his adoration for her. Agni himself probably couldn't describe it.

"Fire Lord," the sound of one of the prison guards caused Zuko to glance away from Katara for a short moment.

"Yes?" he answered, slight annoyance peaking in his voice because of the fact that this person interrupted him when he was obviously busy.

The guard visibly gulped, knowing Zuko had a tendency to make his Fire Nation royal temper known in the most unsuspecting of times. "The criminal is ready for i-interrogation."

Zuko nodded once, and looked back at Katara, her eyes having never left his face. "Katara," he mumbled, "I think it would be best if you waited outside while I go in and speak with Ozai."

His water-bender looked confused, her eyebrows furrowing and her lips already forming the foundation for impending speech, but he silenced her before she had a chance to speak by continuing his explanation, "I don't know if Ozai will try anything. He doesn't have any of his bending powers, but he's still got fists and feet. I just don't think he'll take kindly to even _me _being there, much less you. A Water- Tribe descendent."

Zuko could tell she wanted to protest; she wanted to scream and shout at him that he was underestimating her abilities as a fighter, but she didn't. Her lips closed and she nodded reluctantly at him, her eyes conveying that she was here for him if he needed anything. His heart swelled with love for his fiancée, and he gathered her smaller form into his arms, placing a gentle kiss on her lips before he unwillingly released her. Then he followed the prison guard down a few flights of stairs, accompanied by seven of his finest and most trust-worthy guards, until he was led to a red door. Zuko took a deep breath and walked through the threshold, not stopping at the sight of his ragged father that met him as soon as his feet stepped through the door. Bruises of varying sizes were stretched across the expanse of his pale skin; dirt and grime were ground into the rags that served as his clothing, and his ebony hair had grown out to past his shoulders, matted with dirt and blood. His entire form smelled of urine.

"Well I can see the staff here know how to take care of their most hated of offenders." Zuko spat, his voice a low, sarcastic growl, as though they were discussing a luxury resort. The Fire Lord felt no pity for the man who sat before him, his face gray and slim from malnourishment, his clothing slightly hanging off of his body. The hatred he felt for Ozai ran deep within his body until it was practically coursing through his veins.

Ozai's golden eyes glanced at Zuko, their hue still as bright and metallic and evil as ever. A meticulous smile found its way to his face, and he reclined back slightly in the wooden chair, worn from years of use. "Well, that definitely seems like the kind of greeting one would expect from a son. Where are your manners Zuko? Are you forgetting who raised you?"

Zuko's veins erupted in flames at those words. His feet were on the floor in seconds, his chair rattling to the floor as he angrily pushed out of it. Zuko's face was rigid, and poised directly level with his father's. Ozai didn't even flinch. "You did _not _for one _minute_ prove yourself to be even an adequate father! How dare you say that you raised me! The only thing you did for me was mark me with this," Zuko gestured roughly towards his scar, towards the crimson disfigurement that stretched across half of his facial features, "_this _is a constant reminder of what I do not want to be. When I was thirteen I thought it was a punishment, but instead I've come to see this scar as a symbol of hatred and complete power, what almost destroyed the world- I see this scar as my blessing. I will never be you, Ozai." Zuko's voice was strong, and it boomed with each word he spoke like that of a true ruler.

Ozai's eyes had darkened slowly throughout Zuko's speech, and his lips pulled down into a deep hate- filled, frown. "How dare _I? _Your mother abandoned you, you pathetic boy! I was left to raise you all by myself and you dare say that I did nothing for you? I gave you that scar so that you would understand that you cannot be the weakling that you were- that you still are!"

"I am no weakling, Ozai. I am nothing of the sort." Zuko's voice hissed, dangerously low. His hands gripped the table-top that separated father and son, and his knuckles gradually became devoid of color. Zuko attempted to calm his heartbeat. He came here for answers. And he was not going to be blindsided by Ozai's attempts at unhinging him. "Where. Is. My. Mother?" Each word was spoken with precision.

Ozai's lazy grin was once more pressed across his lips, and he idly swatted invisible lint from his tattered shirt. "Oh Zuko." He laughed darkly, a low sound in the back of his throat. "You honestly think I know?"

The current Fire Lord resisted the urge to shout at his father. Zuko didn't just think that Ozai knew where Ursa was. Zuko knew it. "Where is she, Ozai?" He asked again, his patience wearing thin as the minutes ticked away. He was getting nowhere, and his blood pressure was rising dangerously. When the older man refused to answer, Zuko pushed the table up against him roughly, "Tell me!" he declared in a shout, his eyes rabid with the desire to tear his father apart. That's all that Zuko wanted to do for longer than he could remember.

Ozai just laughed again, his laugh bouncing off the walls of the small interrogation room, enlaced with a malice and malevolence that was even foreign to Zuko. Ozai was almost not human. He was a monster. The longer that Ozai laughed, the more desperate and rabid Zuko became. What had he done with his mother? Was she even still alive? Was she being tortured? The possibilities swirled through his mind, each one more grotesque than the last.

And the more Zuko tried to pry the answer from his father, the more he began to understand that this was a test. This evil bastard wanted a rise out of him- he wanted Zuko to scream and yell and curse him to Hell, to demonstrate his hatred in front of him so that the ex Fire Lord could drink up every detail until he was drunk on Zuko's agony. Ozai wanted Zuko to show him just how weak and cowardly he was. Wasn't that what words of hatred showed? Cowardice? Ozai wanted to know for sure that Zuko was no better than him. Deep down, possibly in a subconscious part of him, Ozai knew he was a weak man. He possessed the inability to show compassion or mercy. He couldn't control his anger, which was how Zuko received the marring of his face. And he couldn't accept different cultures and traditions- which was how the war began. Ozai was arrogant and vile and could not bring any part of him to love.

Zuko stopped yelling at his father, he stopped demanding answers and cursing him. The Fire Lord lowered himself in his seat as the realization came crashing into him. By acting the way he was, he was proving that he was no better than Ozai. Zuko's eyes glanced at his father, watching as his lazy grin morphed into one of mild confusion at Zuko's actions. "I will find her." Zuko's voice was quiet, nothing more than a mere mumble, but the truth in his words spoke volumes. "I will find her, Ozai, even if you don't tell me where she is. You think I'll stop looking for her if you don't tell me. And I can assure you that I won't. She was everything that a parent is supposed to be, something that you will never understand."

Ozai's eyes watched Zuko scrupulously, hardening with each word that came from his son's tongue- the words of wisdom that Ozai never had the ability to possess.

"I'm marrying Katara." Zuko said easily, confidently into the silence- knowing all too well that Ozai's reaction to this news would destroy the calm façade he had fashioned at this moment. But he needed Ozai to know it.

Ozai's eyes widened initially in surprise and that eventually morphed into utter outrage. This time Ozai pushed forward towards the table, the chair he was residing in clattering towards the floor. Ozai yelled in outrage, the chains around his wrists and feet chattering excitedly at the unexpected movement. "You are going to marry a Water- Tribe bitch? You'll corrupt the royal blood- line with your selfishness! You pathetic excuse for a Fire Nation royal! How dare you!"

Zuko's eyes flashed at his distasteful description of Katara, but he held his ground, ignoring the throbbing desire deep within his chest that begged him to attack this man. He would not stoop to Ozai's level. He was better than that.

"She will prove more qualified in the position of Fire Lady than any of the women that I would have had to choose from," was his response, his voice possessing a confidence that Zuko didn't know he had within himself. He guessed that this assurance came from his talking about Katara- she was the only thing he _was _sure of anymore.

Ozai's nostrils flared in disgust, and he glared at his son, hands trembling with anger. "How. Dare. You. She is a worthless piece of shit! If you want a Water- Tribe in your bed so badly, Zuko, there are plenty of those bimbos to go around! Do not marry one! You cannot corrupt pure blood for something like her!"

"Something like her?" Zuko repeated, as though the words were foreign on his tongue. "She is not _something _Ozai. She is everything. This is not about sex with us- this is about how much I love her. And how much she loves me. The world has accepted us- I was hoping that my own flesh and blood would too."

Ozai snorted, as though Zuko was more than an idiot for assuming such. Zuko glanced sadly at his father, knowing now was the time to end this. He had accomplished nothing.

Zuko rose to his feet, glancing once more at the man who had fathered him, and spoke, "I don't care that you don't accept her. I love her. And I'm going to marry her. And as for my mother," Zuko paused to prevent his voice from trembling, "I am going to find her. I don't understand how you could possibly have treated the woman you supposedly loved like that. And I will not turn into you, Father. I refuse." His voice was calm and controlled as he stared at Ozai.

And somehow, even though an hour ago his veins coursed with nothing but hatred, he felt pity for the man before him. His anger extinguished, Zuko studied the man before him, as though he was an alien being, which, in a sense, he sort of was. Zuko felt pity for Ozai- he never would understand the importance of loving another person. His heart was corrupted with a poisonous selfishness that would never be cleansed from his body- no, it would destroy him.

Zuko had almost turned into this creature- he had almost become what sat before him, garbed in prison clothes, eyes projecting hatred, but Katara had saved him, as she always had. And even though Ozai thought he was the strong one, Zuko knew that thought was incorrect.

With the thought of his water-bender taking control of his mind, Zuko knew it was time to leave. He knocked swiftly, three raps on the door to alert the guards outside that he was finished, and exited, ignoring the silence behind him.


End file.
